


It's Called "Comfort Food" For a Reason (Discontinued)

by ThatOtherAccount



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Belly Kink, BoKuroo is not a thing in this as much as I love that ship, Body Image, Eating, Hiccups, Insecurity, M/M, Office, Slow Burn, Stuffing, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Weight Gain, but nothing too intense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-11-26 15:47:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18182582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatOtherAccount/pseuds/ThatOtherAccount
Summary: Kuroo's had a crush on his roommate for years now...but as it becomes clear that Bokuto only has eyes for Akaashi, Kuroo drowns his sorrows in junk food, bad jokes, and office drama.PLEASE NOTE: As of right now, I am no longer updating this work. I kinda wrote myself into a corner, and while I love the concept I created, I don't really love the execution. I apologize to everyone who was having fun with it, and I hope it can at least inspire some fics of your own.





	1. Thin Mints

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to make it clear, this is not a BoKuroo fic. As much as I love that ship, I equally love Kuroo pining after Bokuto while slowly falling in love with Kenma, so...guess what you're getting. (⌒_⌒;)
> 
> Second disclaimer: this is a kink fic. Be prepared!
> 
> Third disclaimer: I am totally writing this by the seat of my pants. Will this be updated? What will happen next? Who knows? Not me! (This also means that any suggestions in the comments might actually be taken into deep consideration...)
> 
> Fourth disclaimer: because I am writing this unprepared, Title Is Subject To Change
> 
> EDIT 3/29/19 - Fifth disclaimer: This has strangely more plot than I anticipated? So? Be prepared for that I guess?

“Hey, Bo,” Kuroo said suddenly. “Do you think I’m getting fat?”

 

Bokuto poked his head out from the kitchen door to stare at Kuroo, who was standing between the couch and the TV in their living room. He squinted his eyes and cocked his head, as if trying to gage just how much Kuroo’s body had changed since they started sharing an apartment over a year ago.

 

“Maaaaaybe,” he said slowly, squinting harder and padding forward. “Take your shirt off.”

 

Kuroo swallowed dryly, but forced a leering grin. That was one of the hardest things about living with Bokuto -- dealing with tactless commands like this. Despite knowing it was useless, he decided to try to milk the situation for what it was worth. “My, my, Bokuto. Coming on a little fast, are we?” He winked.

 

Just as he’d predicted, Bokuto only looked confused. “How am I supposed to tell if you’re getting fat if you don’t take your shirt off? You haven’t ballooned in the last year or anything.”

 

“Well, that’s good to know,” Kuroo remarked, pulling his T-shirt over his head despite his better judgement. He placed his hands on his hips as Bokuto padded into the living room, stepping over a few scattered take-out boxes and his own backpack slung carelessly onto the floor, textbooks sliding out. He bent down in front of Kuroo and inspected his waistline.

 

“Hmm.” Bokuto poked Kuroo’s stomach and pinched his sides. Kuroo coughed and looked away, quietly clearing his throat. After a few more seconds, Bokuto stood up, seeming pleased with himself.

 

“Well, I’d say you’ve gotten a little chubby. I keep telling you to come back to the gym with me.” He poked Kuroo playfully in the stomach again. His roommate rolled his eyes and swatted his hand away.

 

“Thanks, but my gym days are long over.” Kuroo managed another lopsided smile as he pulled his shirt back over his head. “Time for me to devote myself to the world of business, you know.”

 

Bokuto looked disappointed for a second. He frowned and tapped his chin. “What if...you pursued knowledge...of physical fitness?”

 

Kuroo laughed. “Nice try, bro. Aren’t you supposed to be doing that?” He nodded pointedly toward the textbooks scattered over the floor. “When’s the last time you actually opened those?”

 

Bokuto pouted and looked away. “In...class...I guess… C’mon, Kuroo!” He crossed his arms as Kuroo snickered. “Physical trainers don’t read! This is just extra stuff! They have to make us do it; it’s the law!”

 

“Then hadn’t you better start reading it? Since it’s the law, you know.”

 

“Kuroo!” Bokuto groaned and flopped onto the couch.

 

Chuckling, Kuroo sat down beside him and picked up a half-finished container of yakisoba. Grabbing a couch pillow from off the floor, Bokuto hugged it to his chest and then turned to face Kuroo, staring over the pillow sulkily.

 

“If you don’t want to get fat, you shouldn’t keep eating that,” he pointed out, eyes brightening a bit.

 

Kuroo paused, biting the inside of his lip. Bokuto wasn’t saying this to be mean. In fact, Kuroo really couldn’t blame him for showing off his knowledge of nutrition right after Kuroo’d ribbed him for not studying hard enough for his physical trainer certification. He sighed and decided to brush it off.

 

“Well, we all have our vices.” He dug into the rich, calorie-laden noodles and relished briefly in the fatty taste. “Mine happens to be instant noodles and store-bought cookies.”

 

Bokuto sulked behind the pillow for a few more seconds. Then, as Kuroo knew he would, he glanced over at him, eyes shining. “What are mine, then?”

 

“Jesus,” Kuroo muttered under his breath. “Let’s see. Acting without thinking, being way too loud, behaving like a child most of the time…”

 

“Kuroo, you’re mean!” Bokuto hit him with the pillow, but Kuroo only grinned as he held up one arm to protect himself.

 

“And,” he added, carefully guarding his noodles, “Spending far too much time with a certain kouhai I know.”

 

Bokuto froze mid-pillow-strike. The base of his neck went red, and the blush rapidly spread over his face and ears. In an instant, he curled around the pillow again, hiding his face in it. Even so, Kuroo couldn’t miss the huge smile spreading from ear to ear.

 

“Kuroo…” Bokuto groaned again, curling his toes around the couch. “That’s not nice…”

 

“Ah, but it’s true,” Kuroo said, burying a pang of grief in a huge bite of instant noodles.

 

During the year he’d spent living with Bokuto, he’d learned a lot of things about him. And, as often was the case with him, the more he learned about someone, the more he liked him. Despite his growing fondness for his roommate, it was impossible to miss the fact that Bokuto had grown fond of someone else. As soon as Kuroo realized that, painful though it was, he stopped at nothing until he discovered the source -- a stunningly beautiful, athletic young man named Akaashi, who had just begun the same two-year course that Bokuto was about to finish.

 

Ever since then he’d decided never to give Bokuto a moment’s peace over the issue. And despite the whining, groaning, blushing, and hiding, Bokuto liked being teased about Akaashi. Kuroo could tell. And Kuroo liked seeing his friend happy, even if it made his stomach twist painfully at the same time.

 

He may have consumed a few too many instant noodles and boxes of Oreos because of this painful contradiction.

 

Beside him, Bokuto squirmed and buried his face in the pillow. A few seconds later he looked up, red-faced and expectant, at Kuroo. “Hey, um...what time is it?” he asked with forced nonchalance.

 

Kuroo dug his phone out of his pocket and examined the cracked screen. “Almost six thirty. Why?” He waggled his eyebrows, but Bokuto was already halfway across the room.

 

“I have to go. I’ll see you later!” He grabbed his jacket and shoved on his shoes.

 

Kuroo laughed. “Where are you going, man?”  


“Uh…nowhere!” Bokuto said, a guilty grin covering his face.

 

“Uh-huh.” Kuroo raised one eyebrow. “You have a date with Akaashi, don’t you.”

 

“H-how --” Bokuto stopped midway through tying his shoes. “Kuroo, are you -- can you read minds? Did you look through my phone?”

 

“I’m full of mystery.” Kuroo waggled his fingers at Bokuto and went back to his noodles. “Nah. I heard you yelling your plans to him last night over the phone. You talk really loud, bro.”

 

Bokuto’s eyes bugged out as his ears went crimson. “U-uh --” He gulped, then rubbed the back of his neck as he stared at the ceiling. “Well, um, we’re just gonna check out this new place, so, I’ll let you know if it’s any good!” He ran to the door and looked back. “Don’t do anything super fun without me tonight!”

 

“Psh.” Kuroo let his head fall back over the back of the sofa, admiring Bokuto upside-down. “What could be more fun than a night on the town with Akaashi Keiji?”

 

Bokuto squawked and gaped. “Y-you know his full name?”  


Kuroo grinned. “You don’t? Why doesn’t that surprise me?” He sat up and sighed, moving the last remaining noodles around the bottom of the box with his chopsticks. “Anyway, don’t worry. I got another one of these bad boys to heat up, and then I got a crap ton of reports to file, so. It’s gonna be a dull night over here.”

 

Bokuto stuck out his tongue. “If you keep eating those, you’ll get fat for real,” he pointed out, opening the door.

 

“Hey man, don’t cramp my style,” Kuroo called after him. “It’s called ‘comfort food’ for a reason, you know.”

 

“You don’t need comfort! You’re awesome!” Bokuto called from down the hall.

 

“You forgot to shut the door!” Kuroo yelled from the sofa.

 

“Sorry!” Bokuto dashed back and slammed the door, leaving Kuroo alone on the couch.

 

As the sound of the door slamming slowly faded into silence, Kuroo let his head fall back again and sighed. The ticking of the clock that hung over the window slowly grew louder until it filled the entire apartment. He listened to it intently as he scooped the remaining noodles into his mouth.

 

After a minute, he sighed and forced himself to stand up. Padding into the kitchen, he threw the empty instant yakisoba container into the trash and dug a new one out of the pantry, adding water and plopping it into the microwave without giving it much thought. As it heated, he pulled his shirt up over his stomach and inspected it, prodding it with his fingers.

 

It was a little flabby, he had to admit. His once-sculpted abs had disappeared under a soft layer of flesh, which poked out a little over his skinny jeans. He was probably getting too old to wear these damn jeans anymore -- he was almost twenty-six, after all, and they gave him a muffin top -- but he still liked to wear them on his rare days off, no matter how much his drinking buddies liked to say they made it look like his legs comprised eighty percent of his height. Frowning, he pinched a solid roll of flesh that protruded over the side of his jeans, and sighed, leaning against the fridge.

 

Maybe Bo was right. Maybe he should eat a little healthier. The microwave timer went off as he continued to prod his stomach, wondering exactly how much weight he’d gained since his last year of college. Bo could probably draw him up an entire nutritional plan, if he wanted. He smirked and imagined Bokuto and Akaashi sitting at some health-food restaurant, swapping notes on how much broccoli people should eat in a day, and his grin faded. A sharp pain shot through his abdomen and he dropped the hem of his T-shirt, smoothing it over his stomach.

 

“Fuck it,” he muttered, taking the yakisoba out of the microwave. He grabbed a box of thin mints on the way to his laptop.

 

Maybe there were more reports to file than normal, or maybe he spent more time thinking about his friend’s love life than was healthy. Either way, by the time he’d finished the yakisoba and the thin mints, he was only about half done. He took a brief break for a drink of water, during which he snagged another box of cookies, and returned to his post.

 

His pants grew steadily tighter as the clock ticked on. A few cookies into the second box, he stopped to unbutton his pants, flushing at the relief he felt as his stomach expanded. He let out a loud burp, since no one was home, and rubbed his stomach.

 

“Where are you, Bo?” he muttered to himself, grinning. “Someone’s gotta tell me to stop. Jesus.” Stifling a hiccup, he reached into the box and continued filing.

 

He’d guessed Bokuto would be back around ten, but ten-thirty rolled around and there was no sound from the front door. Around eleven, he finished the second box of cookies and realized he’d given himself a stomach ache. He spent a few minutes rubbing his stomach, then dragged himself into the kitchen to trash the evidence and make himself a cup of tea.

 

Around midnight, he finally finished the damn reports. Still no Bo. Slightly worried, he shot off a text.

 

_Kuroo: Where r u, man? Having a good time? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_

 

Despite his stomach ache, he made himself a bag of popcorn, grabbed a beer, and turned on a movie. Two hours later, as he hiccuped his way through the credits, regretting his life choices, there was still no sign of him.

 

Well, he had to be up for work in four hours. Hopefully Bokuto was fine. Groaning, he dragged himself off the couch and sluggishly forced himself to change into pajamas, stifling hiccups and glancing down at his swollen stomach, which protruded from under his rib cage and strained against his boxers. At the very least, the beer made him sleepy, and despite the shameful amount of junk food currently churning in his stomach, he drifted off within a few minutes.

 

At four a.m., he woke up to a loud text alert.

 

_Bokuto: I’m at Akaashi’s apartment nthing weird is going on so don’t worry!!!!!!!_

_(o^ ^o)_  
  
---  
  
He hissed as the bright screen temporarily blinded him. Rolled onto his back, rubbing his still-churning stomach as he tried to decipher the message. A stale belch rolled out of him, and he groaned.

 

_Kuroo: I seeeeee._ _( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_

 

He rubbed his stomach as the seconds ticked by, burping occasionally. He’d really overdone it this time. If Bokuto and Akaashi were going to be a “thing,” as he predicted, he’d better find a better coping mechanism or Bokuto wasn’t going to have to ask him to take off his shirt to see if he’d gained weight.

 

_Bokuto: Don’t tease meeeeee_ _(⁄ ⁄ >⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄) _

_Bokuto: I’ll tell you about it tmorwo okay!!!_

 

Kuroo pulled a face. He still felt too full to get up, but somehow, the urge to bury himself in empty calories was rising again.

 

_Kuroo: Looking forward to it_ _( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_

 

_Bokuto: Stop!!_

_Bokuto: u bettern ot have eaten all the yakisoba when i get back kk bc i’m hungry_

 

_Kuroo: y don’t u eat Akaashi’s ass_

 

_Bokuto: stoppppppppppppppppppppp i’m going to sleep_

 

Kuroo dropped his phone beside his bed and rolled over, his stomach protesting slightly. He hiccupped into the pillows and grimaced as he tasted thin mint.

 

Two hours later, his alarm pierced his skull with its siren-like wail, and he nearly fell out of bed trying to turn it off. Groaning, he sat up and rubbed his stomach. It was still bloated. Fantastic.

 

He stumbled through his daily routine, regretting the previous night as per usual, but it wasn’t until he yanked on his work pants that he ran into a real roadblock.

 

Over the past few months, he’d thought his pants had been getting a little tighter. Sometimes, if he ate too big a lunch or drank too much after work, they were downright painful. Still, he was always able to button them in the morning.

 

“Come on,” he muttered, trying not to panic as he tried to force his fly closed. He tried to suck in, but his stomach gurgled and fought him. He belched into his fist, leaning back for a second before trying again. “Jesus, how the fuck did I get this -- bloated --” he grunted, pulling as hard as he could. Taking a deep breath, he sucked in as hard as he could and buttoned his pants in one swift motion, zipping his fly before anything could break. He adjusted the waistband under the swell of his stomach, hoping his suit coat would cover it enough to allay suspicion.

 

“Goddamn -- Bokuto and Akaashi,” he muttered, panting, as he made his way into the living room. His pants squeezed his waist painfully, the button precariously tight. He belched again, and felt slight relief. Everything would probably be fine once the swelling went down. He just had to wait it out. Control himself.

 

He grabbed a pop tart on his way out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Let me know if you want to see more of this because odds are I'll forget about it entirely in the stress of finals. This is so much more fun than writing research papers, though... (╥_╥)


	2. Donuts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo's crush might be drifting away from him, and so might his control over his responsibilities at the office, if a crappy guy from corporate has his way. At least they've sent donuts as a sort of apology, right? 
> 
> I mean, what can go wrong with donuts?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing kink fic is the best distraction from real life I could have hoped for. I'm glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter! I hope you'll like this one as well... :)

The morning train was not being kind to Kuroo’s stomach.

 

Although it was hardly past 6 a.m., the train was already filled with equally grumpy businessmen and women commuting quietly to work, and many of the seats were taken. Add to that the fear that his pants would break if he sat down too suddenly, which left him clutching the grab rail and doing his best not to belch in front of everyone.

 

About ten minutes into this lurching displeasure, a man with familiar swept-back hair strode up to him, settling in beside him as the train lurched into motion again. He grinned. “Morning, Kuroo.”

 

Kuroo grinned back. “Hey, Teru.”

 

Although he’d only met Terushima through work, he had a suspicion that had someone told this fun-loving mischief-maker at age seventeen that given eight or nine years he’d be working an office job in publication, he’d have laughed it off even harder than Kuroo would have. During after-hours drinking parties, Teru had showed him pictures of his younger self. With blond hair , pierced ears, and even a tongue piercing, he looked almost delinquent. Now his hair was back to its natural brown color and only faint scars showed where his piercings had been. 

 

Even so, Kuroo had seen him wearing those piercings on off days, and it was clear from his constant smirk and office hijinks that the kid from those pictures had done anything but grow up.

 

“Did you hear what they’re doing now that they’ve finished the downsizing?” Teru asked, leaning toward Kuroo conspiratorially.

 

Kuroo narrowed his eyes. “No. Spill.”

 

“Well.” Teru looked around as if corporate spies might be among them on the train. Which, to be fair, was not a baseless assumption. “I heard they’re bringing in a new guy to take over the Azumane project.” 

 

“What the hell?” Kuroo hissed. “That’s my thing.”

 

“I know, right? But according to what I heard Suga tell Sawamura-san, corporate’s all like ‘Oh, there’s a very specific format’ and ‘Oh, they probably can’t get it right.’ Dude, you should have heard him.” Teru snorted. “Suga was  _ pissed off _ . I’ve never seen him like that. And Sawamura looked like he was gonna blow his top.”

 

Kuroo  _ tched _ and shook his head. “We’re all pissed off. So what, this was a stealth merge the whole time?”

 

Teru nodded. “Looks like it. They’re bringing in two new tech guys too.”

 

“Two?” Kuroo gripped the grab bar more tightly. “They literally just got rid of our tech guys. One I can understand, but...Jesus Christ.” He shook his head. The train jolted and he pressed his lips together to suppress another belch. 

 

“I know. It’s stupid.” Teru leaned in closer, and Kuroo shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t want to accidentally belch in Teru’s face. “And you know how corporate sent that email apologizing and promising to ‘make reparations’ or whatever?”

 

“Yeah?” Kuroo’s stomach gurgled and he shifted his weight. Teru didn’t seem to notice.

 

“It’s donuts.”

 

Kuroo blinked. “What?”

 

“Donuts. That’s all they’re giving us. They’re making sure that every morning some dude delivers a bunch of donuts. For ‘office morale.’”

 

Kuroo shook his head. “Oh my god. That’s such bullshit.”

 

“I know, right? And --” Teru stopped. Kuroo, despite his best efforts, let out a long, low belch, covering his mouth with the fist that was holding his briefcase. He made a face and coughed quietly.

 

“Ugh. Sorry about that.”

 

“That was a nice one.” Teru quirked an eyebrow. “You alright, man? You don’t look so hot.”

 

“I’m...I’ve been a little under the weather lately,” Kuroo lied. He hiccupped softly and let out another low belch. “God. Excuse me. I’ve just been bloated as hell.”

 

“Yeesh. That why you had off yesterday?”

 

“Nah, that was planned.” Kuroo swallowed a burp and pulled a face. “I was just lucky enough to get sick on my day off, that’s all. And this bullshit about these new idiots is just the icing on the cake.”

 

“It’s ridiculous, right?” Teru shook his head in sympathy, but his eyes were grinning. “Can’t believe you hadn’t heard any of this yet.”

 

“Oh, please.” Kuroo rolled his eyes and stood up a bit straighter. “You don’t know everything.”

 

“Oh yeah?”

 

“Of course not. You were only hired six months ago. You’re basically still in diapers.” Kuroo smirked as Teru’s grin faded. “In all the time you’ve been here, I haven’t heard you say a word about the SawaSuga rumors.”

 

Teru blinked. “What the hell does that mean?”

 

Kuroo grinned. “Ah, if only you were able to figure that out...and as someone who’s stolen from Sawamura’s office, too. Didn’t you get into his bottom left desk drawer for the paper clip incident? And you saw nothing? What a shame. They say he keeps love letters in there.”

 

Teru’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “I see what you’re getting at. What’s your evidence?”

 

“Well, it’s not really my place to say…” Kuroo lowered his voice. By the time they reached the office ten minutes later, Teru thoroughly educated, he was already feeling a lot better.

 

As usual, he and Teru were at the office a good twenty minutes early, opting to avoid the seven a.m. rush hour by sacrificing a little more sleep. All the cubicles were currently dark and empty, except for one, which sat closest to Sawamura’s office. No one was currently sitting there, but a table lamp with a light blue shade was illuminating a shiny Apple laptop which sat next to a blue notebook and a neatly arranged stack of papers.

 

Kuroo and Teru exchanged looks. The light in Sawamura’s office was on, and although the blinds were drawn over the in-office windows, they could make out two -- potentially three -- shadows.

 

“New guy is here,” Kuroo muttered under his breath, as he and Teru simultaneously slipped around the other cubicles to get a look at whatever this intruder had brought with him.

 

Teru clucked his tongue. “Wish I could unplug his laptop. Right here, right now.”

 

Kuroo, who was already moving the pens just slightly out of alignment, turned to him and grinned. “Do it.”

 

Teru sighed and let his head fall back. “I hate myself for saying this, but...nah.” He leaned over the back of the new guy’s chair, rolling it back and forth a little. “I’m pretty sure I was already on the chopping block last week for the whole...sushi thing.”

 

“Aw, is wittle Teru getting scared?” Kuroo clapped him on the back, but he shot a dark glare at the office. “We’ll find a way to get ‘em back. Just gotta scope out the territory first.”

 

Teru smirked and stood up. “We’d better get in place before whoever it is comes out and finds us messing with their shit.”

 

“Who, us?” Kuroo was already halfway to his cubicle. “We’re simply devoted workers who came in an hour early, as per usual. Can only have the best of the best on this staff, you know.” He paused briefly, surveying the slightly scattered state he’d left his desk in, and straightened some papers. He wasn’t going to suddenly clean out his entire workspace just because some new jerk had arrived, but it wouldn’t hurt to look a little put together. Not everyone could understand the chaos of a genius mind. 

 

Without thinking about it, he plopped into his chair, and sucked in suddenly as his pants cut into his waist. Wincing, he placed his hand over his pants button as he slowly exhaled, making sure it wasn’t going to burst on him. He rubbed his stomach surreptitiously, quietly burping into his fist again. It was going to be one hell of a day, that’s for sure. He’d just have to be extra careful.

 

As if on cue, the door open and Michimiya came in, panting under five boxes of donuts. Teru had already sprung up to assist her before Kuroo could even think about getting out of his chair. Although she ignored his raised eyebrows and suggestive grin, she grunted her thanks as he helped her place the boxes on a white folding table that had been set up beside the water cooler.

 

“Corporate is really dumping this all on your shoulders, huh?” Teru leaned against the table, posturing. “Can’t believe they’d do that to such a beautiful woman! They really have no heart, huh?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, nothing we didn’t already know.” Michimiya was already heading for the door. “There’s like ten more boxes out there. Are you helping me or what?”

 

Teru dropped his flirtations for half a second. “Ten more--! They do know they fired half our department, right?”

 

“Technically only a third, as they have reminded me again and again.” Michimiya brushed a short strand of hair behind her ear, resting for a moment. “But yes, they have sent us fifteen boxes of donuts. They’re gonna get pissy if we don’t eat them, either…” She eyed the boxes and sighed. “Well, so much for losing weight this winter.”

 

Teru grinned and stepped closer. “You know you’d be beautiful in any form, right, Mi-chan?”

 

Michimiya narrowed her eyes. “Ten boxes. Out there. Go.”

 

“Yes, my lady!” Teru said in English, saluting as he marched out the door. He winked at Kuroo on his way out. Kuroo rolled his eyes.

 

“Fifteen boxes, eh?” Kuroo said, starting up his desktop and trying not to think about the delicious, sugary smell wafting across the room. 

 

“Oh, hey, Kuroo-kun.” Michimiya walked around the square cubical formation and sat down at the adjoining desk. “Yeah, it’s gonna be a time. Did you meet the new guy yet?”

 

“Mm-mm.” Kuroo shook his head. Maybe it was just the knowledge that he  _ shouldn’t _ be eating sweets right now -- his pants were barely holding him in and he could definitely stand to lose a few pounds -- but the smell of the donuts was almost overpowering. They were warm -- had to be. Freshly baked, too, it seemed. Corporate hadn’t cut any corners there, surprisingly. Well, he didn’t know that. They might be shitty donuts no matter how good they smelled. Of course, the only way to find  _ that  _ out would to be…

 

He swallowed. Dammit. He was already salivating.

 

“I met him yesterday, passing through.” Michimiya glanced at the main office, shades still drawn. “He already assumed I was the secretary, so that’s fun.”

 

Kuroo pulled a face. “Suga say anything?”

 

“Suga,” Michimiya said, turning her own computer on and twirling a pencil, “was mysteriously absent at the time. I was looking for him. Found him near Sawamura’s office. He got back to the information desk pretty quickly.” She signed, tapping the pencil against the desk. “But, you know. That’s how it goes.”

 

Kuroo pulled a face and cleared his throat to cover up a sudden growl from his stomach. Had he eaten breakfast? Just a pop tart, right? No wonder he was hungry. He should have at least made some rice or eggs or something…

 

“Can I ask you a possibly personal question?” he asked, to distract himself from the boxes of donuts which looked more appealing with every passing second. 

 

“Hmm, I dunno…” Michimiya glanced at Sawamura’s office for a fraction of a second. Just as quickly, she returned her gaze to her desktop. “What sort of question?”

 

“Well, you see.” Kuroo leaned one elbow on the back of the chair, peering around the divider that separated their desks. “It’s about Sawamura-san.”

 

“That’s--” His coworker focused hard on the desktop screen, although it was still only displaying the boot-up screen. Her face went pink as she leaned forward, as if to hide herself behind the divider. “There’s-- well, there’s nothing to ask, is there? It’s not like--” Glancing quickly at Kuroo, she blushed deeper at his leering grin. “And you know that he and Suga--” She cut herself off again. Biting her tongue, perhaps. 

 

Kuroo leaned back and held up his hands, rolling his chair back in front of his computer. “Alright, alright. I think I got my answer. Thank you very much for your participation.”

 

Michimiya curled her hands into fists and took a deep breath. “You’re impossible,” she said, looking straight ahead.

 

“So I’ve been told.” Still grinning, Kuroo sent another glance at the office. Damn, they were taking their sweet time in there. If it weren’t for the new guy’s presence, he could have put money on what Sawamura and Sugawara were up to. As it was, he had no clue. He glanced back at Michimiya, who was tapping furiously away at her computer now that it had finally started up.

 

His own computer had finally reached the login screen as well. Sighing, he rolled his chair forward a bit and typed in his username and password. There was a lot more he could have ribbed Michimiya about. If it’d been Suga he’d been talking to, he could have teased him for hours. But as Suga already had his place in the office with Sawamura, and Michimiya was stuck out here, alone, with him...

 

It felt a little hypocritical, that was all. It was fun to get a rise out of her, but occasionally some of the teasing struck a little too close to home. Rousing himself, he shook his head. He did not want to be thinking about his living situation this early in the morning.

 

“I’m guessing Suga didn’t make the coffee.” He stood up and stretched. “I’ll start it.”

 

“Would you? I’d appreciate that,” Michimiya said, still not looking at him.

 

The coffee machine usually sat on a wooden table, along with a leafy potted plant, next to the water cooler. However, as he rounded the formation of cubicles, he realized abruptly that apparently that too had been moved to make way for corporate’s calorie-laden peace offering. The machine sat unplugged at the end of the white folding table, where Teru was arranging the boxes.

 

“They don’t even all fit on here.” Teru stood back and crossed his arms. “Had to leave three in the breakroom. What do they think we’re going to do with all of these?”

 

“Mm,” said Kuroo, heading for the door. The smell of the donuts was even more overpowering up close. His stomach growled again. “Torture anyone who’s on a diet, apparently.”

 

“Grab napkins while you’re getting the coffee, will ya?” Teru called after him.

 

In the end it was just too much. He couldn’t just stand there, engulfed in the smell of coffee grounds and freshly-baked donuts, and not think about the breakfast he’d failed to eat that morning. The growling of his stomach had released a few more discreet burps, and he didn’t feel quite as bloated as before. In fact, he was probably almost back to normal-- although he didn’t like to think about the fact that “normal” apparently had him struggling to button his pants in the morning. Pushing the thought aside, he grabbed a napkin and opened the nearest box.

 

The smell was almost intoxicating. Twelve donuts, warm, freshly baked, stared him in the face. Four chocolate-iced, four powdered sugar, and four jelly-filled. For a fraction of a second he had a fantasy of himself sitting under the table surrounded by cardboard boxes, stuffing himself with every damn donut in the building. His ears flushed and he swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck, before selecting a chocolate-covered donut and biting into it.

 

Goddammit. They were good.

 

They were seriously good. Chocolate covered his tongue and overloaded his senses for a moment, and as he swallowed, the bite he’d just taken sunk warmly into his stomach. He took another bite, breathing in the smell of the chocolate as well as the taste. Goddammit, corporate. Of all the things to do a decent job on. He swallowed and finished the donut in two more bites.

 

Glancing around, he saw that Teru had moved around the office to flirt with Michimiya again. No one had emerged from the office yet. He wasn’t even sure if Teru had seen him eat the first donut. Making sure no one was watching, he reached into the box and pulled out another donut-- jelly this time. They weren’t going to be as good once they cooled down, he justified, giving himself over to the sickly sweet combination of strawberry jelly and sugar.

 

He was on his third donut when the office door open and Sawamura emerged, followed by a tall, fit man in a dark blue suit coat who was smiling as if he were on a game show. His hair was immaculately groomed, swept effortlessly to one side, and reminding Kuroo of the perpetually untidy state of his own hair. Grimacing slightly, he bit into the donut -- chocolate again -- just as he and the stranger made eye contact.

 

The man never stopped smiling, but his eyes narrowed slightly. Kuroo licked his lips as he chewed, narrowed his own eyes, and smirked.

 

This guy was definitely a jerk.

 

Sawamura caught sight of him a moment later and steered the new guy over to the folding table. “Kuroo-kun. Nice to see you here early again,” he said, smiling in a way that Kuroo clearly recognized as forced. So Sawamura was just as displeased with the new guy as he was. Things were already leaning in Kuroo’s favor. “I’d like to introduce you to Oikawa-san, who will be joining you on the Azumane project.”

 

_ Joining you _ . Kuroo had to fight not to narrow his eyes further. This guy didn’t look like he intended to  _ join _ anything. He was a damn spy, bent on either conquering this branch or bringing it down with him.

 

Oikawa bowed, never dropping the smile. It was like he was a damn android or something. “Oikawa Tooru. Pleased to meet you.”

 

Kuroo returned the bow, although he didn’t make a special effort to show any gratitude for Oikawa’s presence. “Kuroo Tetsurou. Likewise.”

 

Sawamura seemed to sense the growing animosity and shot Kuroo a don’t-you-fuck-this-up glare. Kuroo smirked in return, despite suddenly feeling a bit nervous. Sawamura could be scary when he wanted to be, and if he thought this guy was so important, then, well. As much as Kuroo hated to admit it, maybe he was.

 

Sawamura crossed his arms and nodded toward the corporate invader. “The new tech members of our crew worked under Oikawa-san previously. He told me he would like to introduce them to you.”

 

Oikawa nodded pleasantly. “They should be here any minute now.”

 

Sawamura gave Kuroo another distrustful glance. “Unfortunately, I have to go back to the office now. Oikawa-san can introduce you to our new hires, and you can show him around the office and explain the work that’s been done on the project so far.”

 

Oikawa and Kuroo nodded. “Thank you!” Oikawa called out in English as Sawamura walked away. Kuroo saw his shoulders tense briefly, but he did not turn around or act as if he’d heard.

 

Oikawa turned back to Kuroo, still bearing that eternal smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His eyes barely moved, but Kuroo could have sworn the man gave him a once-over. He tilted his head to the side and put his hands carelessly in his pockets, shifting his weight to his right leg. “Enjoying the donuts?”

 

Kuroo’s thoughts flashed to the way his stomach still pressed against his pants, and for a brief moment the half-eaten donut in his hand felt heavy and foolish. Just as quickly, he pushed the thought out of his head. He, Kuroo Tetsurou, was not going to get riled up over such a juvenile taunt. Instead, he grinned and took another large bite.

 

“Yeah,” he said, mouth full. “They’re really good. Definitely makes up for the six people you guys fired.” 

 

Oikawa’s eyes narrowed just a fraction, but Kuroo saw it. He swallowed and widened his grin. “The Azumane project is a big one, you know. We’ve made a lot of progress already, but that was with seventeen people working on it. Wonder how it’s going to get along with only thirteen?”

 

“You know, it’s funny,” Oikawa said, eyes squinting closed as his smile widened, “because in your last progress report, you were behind. And there were such inconsistencies in the editing! I don’t want to touch on a sore spot, but it was a clear sign of too many hands in the pot, you know.”

 

Kuroo’s eyes narrowed. “Was it, now?”

 

“Mm.” Oikawa clucked his tongue with faux regret. “It was too bad. And formatting is such an important part of this publication, too. Of poetry in general, and especially with Azumane’s-- it’s everything. You know the executives want this to be a big hit, right? Another flop out of this department and you all might be…” He glanced at the cubicles, still arranged in their square of sixteen. Several were devoid of papers, decorations, or any sign of human residency.

 

Kuroo considered himself a pretty chill guy. He was good at keeping his head in tough situations. He was good at keeping himself from being razzed.

 

He was also strongly considering shoving a box of donuts into Oikawa’s pretty face.

 

From the hallway, Suga’s cheerful voice floated into the office, greeting someone. Oikawa turned around and Kuroo took the opportunity to stuff the remainder of the donut into his mouth. He hesitated for a moment before snatching another one. Let the Oikawa fucker make snide remarks if he wants. He was done with this corporate bullshit.

 

“I think my assistants are here!” Oikawa chirped as the door swung open.

 

“ _ Our _ assistants, I think you mean,” Kuroo said, stepping beside him and drawing himself up to his full height. He had at least an inch on this idiot, he realized smugly, and looked to the door to see what other bullshit corporate had sent them.

 

The first person to enter was a tall, skinny kid, barely out of college, Kuroo guessed. He had nervous-looking eyes and hair that stuck straight up, like an onion. Despite himself, Kuroo almost snickered. So that was one, who was…

 

The tall kid stepped to the side, revealing another young man, not too short himself, although he looked it standing next to his tall coworker. Ombre hair that hung to his jawline-- something Kuroo didn’t think anyone could get away with in an office environment, especially under someone as anal as this Oikawa guy already seemed to be-- and surrounded a round face. Golden, catlike eyes stared up at Kuroo, ripping him from the present and sending him through a whirlwind of middle-school memories of a kid with the same hair, same eyes, same face, though not as round at the time--

 

“Kuroo-kun,” Oikawa announced, as if Kuroo were the transfer instead of himself. “Let me introduce Kindaichi and Kozume, my tech assistants.”

 

The golden eyes continued to stare at Kuroo. He swore he saw--  _ recognized _ \-- the beginning of a smirk starting at the edge of this man’s mouth.

 

The memory dropped his gaze and nodded his head slightly before Kuroo could say a word. He glanced up briefly, meeting Kuroo’s eyes again, that ghost of smirk still present.

 

“Kenma is fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted more to happen in this chapter, but was longer than I thought (and I'm resisting the urge to make a crude joke about that), so...there'll be more reunion shenanigans next time. Stay tuned...
> 
> Also, I wish someone would bring ME donuts every morning. *pout*
> 
> If you like, let me know what you thought/where you think the story is going? I'm curious what sort of impression I've given so far...also I MIGHT use anything you say as ideas. Fair warning.


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